Fucking Crappy Cell Phone!

I hate my stupid fucking cell phone! Of course I also love my stupid fucking cell phone at the same time which makes it much like the men in my life. Not that I actually have any at the moment. Now I'm just being a jerk. But anyway, let's focus here. Stop distracting me! My cell phone sucks serious ass. It's a little ass-sucking crap phone whose only saving virtue is that it takes cute little pictures of pretty much whatever I point it at which I can then send all over the place thereby making me feel all warm with the glow of sharing. But as of Friday night it stopped taking cute little pictures of anything and now only seems capable of it's phoning and texting duties which really aren't all that exciting to me at the moment. Dammit. It's not like my phone is currently ringing off the hook with people luring me out of my nesty place with offers of fame, fortune and excitment (however it did deliver me an offer of a trivia-filled afternoon tea and dinner at the whitespot today that I'm pretty stoked about). So yeah. My phone blows. Like a $5 floozie. Or that bitch who tried to pick a fight with me at the bar the other night. Oh wait, that's pretty much the same thing. Tee hee. And I'm spent.